I asked Dennis last winter how much he figured we spend per month just to run the dryer. He figured at least $50.

(We have a front-load HE washer, but still our original dryer that we got when we were first married. The washer has room for 3x what I used to be able to fit in our old washer, but the dryer couldn't keep up very well with 3x the amount of clothes in it. I was constantly running that thing because I had to split loads, which held up the laundry process. With this many people and dirty clothes--that laundry train has gotta keep movin'!)

I'm all about spending less when I can,

so I opted to quit using the dryer as much as possible.

I know that some people string a clothesline in their basement,

but this was not an option for me

so I spent about $3 on hangers at Wal-Mart and I hang the

clothes in closet doorways and bedroom doorways.

I also spent $20 on this rack (again at Wal-Mart)

for additional hanging space.

One can get a lot of little shirts on small hangers

hung onto one big hanger, as you can see.

This drying rack I've had for about 10 years.

Up until the "retirement" I'd used it for things that couldn't go in the dryer,

like any of the things I didn't want to shrink or fade

or if they were delicate.

I also recently decided to start hanging the diapers, too.

I do run them in the dryer for about 5-10 minutes just to fluff them a bit

and then hang them up.

For barn clothes,

I hung a shower curtain rod between two hooks in the laundry room

and they hang to dry in there.

The only things I use the dryer for now are towels,

because I simply don't have the space to hang them up inside the house.

Also, if someone desperately needs their jeans or something else dry to wear,

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Y'know--I'm doing the best I can.
Well, maybe not my verybest every day, but I really do try and I work very hard to accomplish all that has been given me to do--and then some.

I cook {a lot}, I wash {a lot of} dishes, clothes, faces, hands, bodies, floors, and diapers.
I make the beds, sweep the floors, and vacuum.
I disciple, discipline, correct, and instruct the children.

And still--it's not enough.

Because if I don't return an email immediately, I'm ignoring emails.
And if I don't answer the phone every time it rings, I'm ignoring people who call.
If I can't come to every (or any) Bible studies, I'm ignoring my responsibilities to the church.
If I'm overcome with it all and lose my patience, I'm a terrible mother.
And if I am out and about, well, shouldn't we really be home doing school???

Sometimes I need to decline an invitation because I don't know how in the world I'll fit it in with all the other things I need to do--and my calendar is basically empty.

I know very, very few people who have a family even remotely similar to mine (I'm certain there are other larger-than-average homeschooling families that live and work on a dairy farm--I just don't know them personally).
This season of motherhood, child-rearing, and child-bearing is just not conducive to a lot of outside-the-home activities, especially if they are recurring over a period of time (ie, a weekly event). Few people understand this.

And so, I get criticized for staying home "too much", for not "going out" enough, for being a woman who finds fulfillment and peace and contentment staying at home.

I like being an at-home-mom, I like doing housework, I like taking care of my kids and teaching them.

Being a wife, living on a farm with children who have responsibilities outside, being a mother to many and growing another requires a lot of time and energy.

I'm tired.
Tired of trying to please everyone.
Tired of trying to explain to non- or mis-understanding ears why I am unable to do something or need to do it a different way.
Tired of being misrepresented and misunderstood.

I'm doing the best I can.
I really am.

And still, people get offended because of something I said or didn't say, something I did or didn't do, somewhere I went or didn't go.

It's so exhausting to have people hear things that I didn't say or read something here on my blog that I wasn't even saying.

I am a real person who struggles with real things in real life.
I enjoy real things and real people who lead real lives.

I put up with people that refer to my kids as "this one", "the other one", "what's-his-name" and "what-cha-ma-call-him".
I hear the comment when we arrive somewhere (in a big stage whisper) "Look--it's like a parade!" and I try to take it gracefully.

I know I cannot be responsible for how everyone else reacts to me, to my family, or to my blog; I know I have a responsibility to act courteously and respectfully--of this I am fully aware.
However, carrying the weight that belongs to others is just too heavy for me.

I don't have the strength to bear it anymore.
Because I'm tired, and there are other things that need my attention more.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

It had been that kind of day.
The kind of day that you wish was over and it's not even 4:00 yet.
The kind of day where I made an early supper because I just wanted to be done--done with cooking, done with washing dishes, done with baths, done with bedtime, just.
done.

But it was only 5:30.
So, I did what I always do when I need to check out for awhile.
I purposed to take a bath.

The older children know that they are not to bother Mom in the tub on a day like that unless they are bleeding or on fire.
Ruby, however, did not.

She knocked on the door.
I wanted to deny her entrance, but knowing that I could end up needing to clean up a puddle if she were not allowed through the door, I granted permission for her to enter.
I pulled the shower curtain shut, she came in and sat down on the little potty seat next to the tub.

I had lit a good-smelling candle, but even it couldn't cover up the "scent" of what she was doing.
Arghhhhhh.
"Ruby, are you done yet?"
"Nope."
"Are you done yet?"
"No."
"Now?"
"Not yet."
Arghhhhhh.
I just wanted a bath, some time to myself, and some reprieve from bad smells.
Obviously, that wasn't going to happen.
Because that is part of my life.
Babies and toddlers and poo.
Grown men and boys and barn clothes and poo.
Little children who never remember to flush the toilet (!!!) and poo.

And so, when my darling little three year old was finished stinking up the whole bathroom minutes after I'd begun my "relaxing" bath, she peeks around the shower curtain and says, ever-so-sweetly, "I'm done now, Mommy, and you take care of the poop, ok?" and out the door she went.

Monday, November 14, 2011

I think I had my heart and mind so set on a homebirth that I forgot that I have to have everything "ready" before baby comes: the carseat, a bag packed, camera at the ready, etc.

A few nights ago I was wondering if it was "time." I made my way through several contractions, all while {almost} freaking out that I wasn't ready!
I knew that if it really was labor, a bath would make the contractions progress. If they were just "false", then a bath should settle things down.

See, I've delivered eight children naturally (no epidurals, etc.). I suppose it's because of this that I know very well that birthing a baby isn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world to do. It hurts. It hurts worse if you're scared. It hurts less if you're prepared for it and prepared to work with rather than against the pain.

Even though I know this, I still had this moment of really vulnerable conversation with God.
"Lord, I'm scared. I'm scared and I'm handing these fears over to You:

~I'm scared it's going to hurt.

~I'm not ready. If the baby comes tonight, I'm not ready. I'm not packed. I don't have everything out of storage!

~I'm scared of all the new-ness surrounding this baby...a new midwife, a new clinic, new hospital, etc.

To each of these, once I had surrendered the fears to the One who can handle them, I talked myself through each one.

Scared it's going to hurt? Of course it's going to hurt--and it will hurt worse if I'm scared. I need to remember that I was created to do this very thing. I'm fully equipped to handle it. If I can remember to work with my body, as I have done before, it'll be fine. I can do this.

Not ready? GET ready! Pack what I can right now, and the rest will work out. It's no one's fault but my own that I'm not packed. Make a list, gather what I need and the problem is solved.

Scared of all the "new"? It can't be helped. Concentrate instead on what is the same: my husband, my friend/doula Megan, birth is not new to me, etc. Focus on the One Who Never Changes--the Almighty, in who's capable hand I rest.

By the time I stepped out of the tub, the contractions had stopped, my fears had eased, and I smelled reaaaallllly good. :-)
I just had to get myself ready to face what lies ahead.

About Me

I am a wife and mother, seeking to do that which the Lord requires of me: to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with my God.
Our children are Nathaniel (20), Isaiah (18), Linnea (16), Andrew (13), Christopher (11), Elijah (8), Ruby (8), Ivy (6), Elizabeth (4) Abram (3) Cecelia (2), and Silas (7 months). We believe that the Lord is the Author of life and that He alone opens and closes the womb. We are happy to welcome more children! My husband is a dairy farmer and I stay at home to care for him, the children, and this house in which we live.